


How Far We Would Go

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Tarnished Silver [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, GFY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has no doubt that it's what brought them as far as they've come so far. What brought down Voldemort, and the Ministry, and saw him free of Azkaban. And he wonders how far it will take them. What they would do for each other, no matter how dangerous, just to keep each other happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Far We Would Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amy Fortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Amy+Fortuna).



The demands for interviews and photos don't come immediately after they take down Voldemort, and settle in to clean out his favorites. When they do, they already have the people in place to keep most of the reporters away, to allow them their privacy. People who already know what goes on between them, and aren't going to allow the media to sensationalize it, or condemn it.

One reporter is finally allowed past the barriers, past the press secretary and the security and the servants, to spend the day with them. She brings with her a photographer whose work they've seen before, and trust will provide them both with what they need - something iconic for the public, and yet understated enough for them not to censor the entire article.

Questions come first about how they pulled off the coup that took out the most powerful Dark Lord the world had ever seen, and why they did it. What they plan to do, now that they're the ones calling all the shots, who's in trouble and who's not. They don't answer all of the questions, but there's never been the expectation that they will.

"I'm reluctant to broach the subject, but you must understand the public will demand information, or they'll make up their own." Millicent steadily meets each of their gazes in turn, her expression giving nothing away about what she thinks or feels about the topic they'd all known would come up sooner or later. "They're curious about the relationship between the three of you, how you can make it work and why you even try."

"It's not much different from making a relationship between two people work. You communicate, and you make sure everyone has their private space, and you put effort into keeping the romance alive." Granger gives her a small smile that never reaches her eyes, leaning forward slightly as if about to start into one of her infamous lectures.

Potter holds up a hand to cut off anything else she might have said, leaning back in his chair as he studies Millicent for a long moment. "Ask your questions, we'll answer. There are no secrets here."

Millicent rather thinks there are secrets, but they are the sort that everyone around them knows, but don't speak about. The sort of secret that Potter and Granger would be accustomed to, but she isn't sure how the youngest Weasley deals with.

"When did you three meet?"

"On the Hogwarts Express." Weasley shrugs. "At least, that's when I met them. I was looking for a compartment to sit in that wasn't with my brothers, and they had room. Invited me to sit with them."

"Harry and I met before that, in a Muggle primary." Granger's smile is more genuine this time. "He spent a lot of his time after school with me and my mother, going all over London. His Hogwarts letter even came to our house. We would have gone to different schools after otherwise."

"You were sorted into different Houses at Hogwarts. What did you think of Mr. Potter being sorted into Slytherin, Mr. Weasley?"

Weasley is silent for a long moment, looking thoughtful. "I was surprised. He wasn't the sort of person I expected to be sorted into Slytherin, just too kind and rather Muggle, to be honest. I didn't know what to think at the time, but I tried not to judge too much. I mean, I was a real prat about it for the first term, but I got better."

"And Mr. Potter…"

"Please, I already asked you to call me Harry." Potter gives her a long look, and Millicent frowns, pressing her lips together.

"Harry. What were your thoughts about your only friend coming to Hogwarts being in a different House?"

"That it would be a bit harder to hang out with her after classes." Potter chuckles, shaking his head. "I really didn't think much about it. I was where I needed to be to make connections that would help us both."

"So the fact that your House-mates didn't approve of your connection to Miss Granger never bothered you?"

"Not all of them didn't approve, and those that had a problem learned quickly enough to keep their opinions to themselves." Potter's earlier amusement fades, his eyes narrowing.

Millicent nods, mentally dismissing further questions along that line, at least those pertaining to Granger. "Miss Granger, how did you cope with your best friend being in the least-appreciated House at Hogwarts?"

"I didn't care about the opinions of others. My grades and the friendship I already had with Harry were more important than the good opinion of some appearance-obsessed society brat. And later, the friendship with Ron, as well." She reaches out to grip Potter's hand a moment. "But mostly Harry."

"You three spent every winter holiday at Miss Granger's family home. How did your parents take your changing relationship with Harry over the years?"

"They accepted it. We never did anything beyond a kiss under mistletoe while we were in their home, anyway. There was nothing there for them to object to."

"What about your house-mates? How did they take your boyfriend being in Slytherin?"

"Well enough. There are a number of pure-bloods in Ravenclaw who don't actually care about the House affiliation of a lover. More important to them is that their spouse be pure-blooded, and with the arranged marriages of most pure-blood families, they don't have to worry about that being an issue."

"So they had objections to you being a Muggle-born?"

"None that they ever expressed to me. I suppose they could have, but in the end, does it really matter? The opinions I cared for weren't theirs, as I've said."

"And how did the Weasleys take to this arrangement of yours?"

Weasley snorts. "Mum and dad are just glad I'm still alive and in one piece. Sometimes mum asks if Hermione and Harry are planning to have kids, and I have to remind her it's not just them making that decision, but it's not a big deal."

"It's like being part of the family." Potter shrugs. "They're not entirely certain about how we make it work all the time, but they try to accept it. Most of them, anyway. Percy's an exception to most things, anyway."

"That would be the personal assistant to the Minister that preceded the government of Lord Voldemort, yes? There were rumours he was pressing for enforcement of laws that criminalize relationships such as that which the three of you have before the Ministry fell. Do you know anything about that?"

"Percy never liked what we had, but those rumours were simply that, rumours." Granger gives Millicent a sharp look, her voice firm and final. There won't be anything more to be gained by asking about that.

After a pause to mentally rearrange questions, Millicent directs the conversation back to safer topics, finishing the interview with a flurry of photographs before bundling up her notes and returning to her tiny London flat to turn them into a cohesive article.

* * *

"Do you ever get jealous?" Padma was sprawled on her stomach over her bed, books and bits of parchment scattered on the duvet around her as she watched Hermione out of the corner of her eye. "I mean, he doesn't even try to keep it quiet that he's cheating on you with a bloke."

"He's not cheating on me." Hermione didn't look up from the book she was studying, carefully making notes in the cypher she used to keep her extracurricular studies secret from her house-mates. "He asked me before he made any overtures to Ron, and I approved of the attempt. If Ron hadn't been interested, nothing would have happened, and you wouldn't be asking nosy questions about something that I thought should be rather obvious."

"I hope I didn't offend, but I'm curious about how you manage it. I've never known anyone else who doesn't even comment on their lover's other lover. Well, when one exists." Padma shrugged, flipping a page in her Arithmancy text. "It's just not done among most pure-blood families. I mean, a pure-blood wizard sometimes will have a mistress, like the Malfoys. But it's not the same."

"What is there to comment on? Ron's my friend, and he can give Harry something I can't."

"Cock?" Padma looked up with a raised eyebrow and a smile she couldn't repress.

Hermione looked up, giving her a long look a moment before giggling, accepting the joke for what it was. "Well, there is that. But there's always a strap-on, if that's all he was looking for." Her amusement faded back into seriousness. "Really, for all that I love Harry, and can give him comfort and caring and encouragement, I can't be everything for him. Ron keeps him from taking himself too seriously, and doesn't let his popularity go to his head."

"I doubt you do, either." Padma snorted. "I've seen you in the study hall."

"He isn't going to learn anything if he doesn't do his own work." Hermione shrugged. "Popularity doesn't buy you everything."

"Yeah." Padma lapsed into silence again, the only sound the scratch of quills on parchment as they worked.

* * *

"I'm not sure if that you're shagging Granger or Weasley that disturbs me more." Draco dropped into the chair across from Harry with a faintly confused look on his face. "I mean, there's plenty of choice in Slytherin if you're looking for variety."

"Which you know from experience." Harry gave Draco a sharp look. "I thought I told you to leave off about Hermione."

Draco rolled his eyes. "She's Muggle-born, what do you expect? It's disturbing, even if she is the most brilliant witch I've ever met, and not too bad when she pays some attention to her appearance. She doesn't make sense, not in the grand scheme of things."

"I'll grant you, there are plenty of Muggles out there that are stupid and willfully ignorant and just plain evil, but the only reason you see more of them is there are more Muggles in the first place." Harry rolled his eyes. "You'd think I was talking to Crabbe or Goyle, the way that hasn't sunk in yet."

"Oi!" Draco glared at him a moment. "I'm trying. It'd be easier if I didn't have obligations during the holidays."

"You could always sneak out, you know. I'd give you a hand, and a place to hide if you at least put a little effort into it." Harry closed the book he'd been reading before Draco came over. "I told you before, I'm not going to abandon a friend just because they're not up to someone else's standards. That goes both ways."

Draco shrugged uncomfortably. "If I do that, Father will probably disown me. And you're going to need someone who can get in with the snake-face."

"You don't have to do that for me, Malfoy."

"Oh, don't delude yourself, Potter." Draco gave Harry a superior little smirk, confidence returning. "The world doesn't revolve around you, no matter how many people you shag."

Harry rolled his eyes, opening his book again. "Of course it doesn't, Malfoy."

* * *

"So, did you shag him because he's Potter, or because you're into blokes?"

Ron wasn't sure if he should be glad at least someone was taking his choice in a stride, or if he should be mortified it was his little sister asking him a question like that. Or both, which certainly seemed to be the best option by far.

""I mean, if it's because you're into blokes, I'd have thought you'd find someone who wouldn't make everyone ask me if you're absolutely nutters. So, really, I hope it's because he's Potter." Ginny watched him with an expectant look on her face, waiting for him to answer.

"Um." Ron grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not like that."

"Curiosity, maybe? Because he's your friend, and he's sexy and he's Slytherin?"

"Sorta, yeah, but…" Ron paused, well aware his face had to be much the same bright red as on his Gryffindor tie. "It's not just that, Ginny, and it's not something I want to talk about with my baby sister."

"I'm not a baby!" Ginny rolled her eyes. "Besides, you'll have to talk to mom about eventually, and everyone else. I don't want details, you're my brother and that's not an image I want, thank you. But, come on, why did you shag him?"

"Because he wanted it, and so did I." Ron shrugged. "Yeah, he's my friend and all, but it's not like there's a lot to why we shagged."

"So why is he your friend?" Ginny had a solemn expression on her face. "I mean, you don't like anyone else in Slytherin, and I've heard about your first year and all the fights you got into with him. So why?"

Ron frowned, his eyes unfocused as he thought about it. He'd never really thought much about it, just accepted it, and he wasn't sure how to explain it to Ginny - or anyone else, if they asked.

"He isn't a prat, even when I was one over which House he got sorted into. He's decent at chess, even if he still hasn't won more than once out of any ten games. He doesn't blame me when we get detention for whatever we got caught at - and he's good at making sure we don't get caught." Ron grinned, laughing a moment as he thought about what the three of them had gotten up to which no one else had caught them at. Even if he did suspect Dumbledore knew about. And probably Snape.

"And what about Granger?"

"What about Hermione?" Ron looked puzzled a moment. "She's my friend, and she's Harry's friend, and she's bloody brilliant."

"And she's Potter's girlfriend."

"Oh. That." Ron shrugged. "I know they love each other. She understands him better sometimes, and he needs that. Doesn't mean Harry and I can't be friends, or can't shag. She doesn't mind."

Ginny looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Hermione'd have hexed me, and probably Harry, if she did mind. Did last time she was angry at us." Ron shifted uncomfortably a moment, grimacing. "Really, Ginny, she's not going to just put up with stuff she doesn't like. Can we talk about something else?"

"Yeah, if you really want to keep talking." Ginny smiled at her brother a moment, knowing that he'd probably be more comfortable if she left him alone. "But Luna is probably waiting for me downstairs."

"Ok." Ron gladly waved his sister off, grabbing one of his text books and pretending to study to keep anyone else in the Gryffindor common room from coming over to ask questions.

* * *

The wizarding public is dismayed when they hear that the trio intends to overhaul Azkaban and the legal system that supports the dreary prison. Terrified of the prisoners that are brought from that place, and held in magically reinforced cells that are far more comfortable than those they'd been housed in before. Never mind that they can't escape, and are being cared for by house-elves who are entirely loyal to the new rulers.

Among them is a prisoner that one of their close advisers points out would have been released by Voldemort if he'd been the loyal Death Eater he was imprisoned for being. That he is a relation to the adviser doesn't bother them, nor does the fact that he calls Harry godson.

* * *

"There's no way to know how much he'll recover of his sanity." Neville watches them with a serious expression on his face that is long familiar. He's been closeted with those brought in to evaluate the prisoners - Muggle psychologists and doctors as well as healers from St. Mungo's. "Doctor Whitaker thinks that it would be best to keep him under twenty-four hour observation for the next several weeks, until he can better evaluate the extent of the trauma."

Potter doesn't move from where he'd been standing near the fireplace, staring into the flames as he listens to Neville further expand on the advice and opinions of the various individuals he's had brought in to see to his godfather. One hand rests against the mantle, steadily closing into a fist as if restraining some building emotion.

Weasley and Granger exchange a look that Neville can't read, though certainly there is some sort of communication there, as Granger stands, ushering Neville towards the door as Weasley approaches Potter.

"I hope I didn't upset him too badly." Neville frowns as Granger shuts the door to the large office behind her, the wood thudding softly home into its frame.

"You're just the messenger, Neville, not the cause. He's not angry at you." Granger sets her hand on his arm, guiding him down the hall towards the main staircase. "Let Ron handle him for now. Do you know if Doctor Whitaker and the others are available at the moment to talk to me directly concerning Sirius?"

"They might be." Neville shoots a brief glance over his shoulder, still worrying about Potter's reaction. "I can call them from my office."

"Let's do that, then." Granger gives him a small, polite smile as she nudges him towards the stairs, and the fireplace below that waits for them to Floo out.

* * *

Ron places a hand on Harry's shoulder as the door closes, trusting Hermione will handle Neville and the situation with Sirius for now. "Harry."

"I want to know who did that to him." Harry's voice is flat and hard, his gaze still firmly fixed on the fire. "And I want them dead."

"You know we can't do that, Harry." He curls his fingers tightly around Harry's shoulder. "We're better than Voldemort, or the Ministry. We have to be."

"Or this whole damn thing falls apart, I know." Harry clenches his jaw, and Ron can hear his teeth grinding together. "And I can't be anything but the hero out there."

"You don't have to be the hero right now." Ron shook him slightly. "Just Harry. Come on, the dueling room's still in one piece."

"I don't want to duel." Harry reaches up to pry Ron's fingers off his shoulder, finally looking up, green gaze holding Ron's blue for a long moment.

"Then what do you want to do?" Ron raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his expression. "You can't keep that anger bottled up, and you can't kill someone."

Harry doesn't reply for a long moment, then turns away, stalking towards the door that leads from the office into the suite of rooms they all share. Peeling off his clothes as he goes, a rough, "Fuck me," coming back to Ron as he follows.

* * *

"If you are determined to continue with both Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, might I suggest, Mr. Potter, that you better learn how to cast silencing charms?" Snape glared at Potter, the fifteen-year-old staring defiantly right back at him. "And make use of the pensieve which I know you've acquired to store those memories prior to these lessons."

"I can't be sure that they'll all be safely stored before an encounter with Voldemort, or that they'll stay safe in a pensieve." Potter slammed up a wall as Snape wordlessly tried to pry into his mind. It wavered after a silent moment, and cracked like spring ice, memories flowing through the gaps. "Damn it!"

"Focus, Potter." Snape sneered, giving him another momentary glare. "On clearing your thoughts and keeping me out, not on your latest assignation with Miss Granger. However appealing to your hormone-addled teenage mind that may be."

The barrier held longer this time, though the memories that came through were much the same - snatched moments with the blasted know-it-all Ravenclaw. That she had such a hold on his prize pupil bothered him more than he'd admit. Though she, at least, could help to temper Potter's recklessness, unlike that idiot Gryffindor he also insisted on calling friend.

"Since you clearly have no ability to focus as commanded tonight, Potter, perhaps there is something else that can be done to ensure you at least achieve some of what you are supposed to be learning." Snape swept out from behind his desk, ignoring the irritated glare from his student as he plucked a book from his shelves and handed it to Potter. "Pages seventy-six through one hundred twenty-two. A one-foot essay on the contents of the chapter and their uses before you return to the common room."

That, at least, would ensure he had some chance of getting through one of these lessons without encountering some scrap of teenage foolishness. And perhaps Potter would actually figure out how to keep those memories of his safe while not in his head. Even if that wouldn't disguise the fact that he was involved with Granger and Weasley, it might keep the extent of his affections for them from being found out.

* * *

Hermione let out a deep sigh as she lowered her wand, her eyes blurring with tears a moment as she looked down at the sleeping forms of her parents. "Yes, mum, I'm sure this is the best way."

She felt warm arms around her waist, and turned to press her face into Harry's shoulder for a moment, hiding her face as she dragged her emotions back under control, shoving them securely into a mental box. Listening to Ron opening the luggage to go through it.

Pulling away, she looked up at Harry, seeing the understanding in his gaze.

"They'll be alright, Hermione. Safe and out of reach." He stroked a stray strand of hair back from her face. "It's for the best."

"Yeah. It's just… almost like they're about to die." Hermione shook herself briskly, stepping over to the bed where they'd put her parents. She didn't have to tell Harry to bring the pensieve, carefully speaking the incantation she'd found in a text Snape had directed Harry towards while teaching him Occulmancy during fifth year. Letting the memories pour out of her mother's mind first, watching them pool and fill the deep stone bowl.

"Anything with any reference to a daughter, anything that would make them doubt the past they're being given, Ron." Hermione stroked a hand across her mother's brow before stepping away, letting Harry bottle the memories, each bottle settling neatly into the waiting case.

"I know." Ron tossed another blouse onto the pile of rejected clothing, items that wouldn't be in keeping with the sort of person and life that her mother would have when they finished relocating them. "You know that if the Ministry catches us at this, we'll be trying to fight Voldemort from inside Azkaban?"

"Only if they can keep us there." Hermione kept a close eye on her mother as Harry finished bottling her memories, closing the case, and sealing it under the first set of protections. She'd add a second later, once they were ready to leave.

Ron sat back on his heels, watching her until she looked over at him, concern in his expression. "Harry and I can finish this, if you need to step out."

"No. I have to see this through." Hermione gave him a strained smile. "But thank you. I certainly couldn't ask for a better friend than someone who volunteers to help me move my parents out of the country and out of their lives."

"Oi, no getting morbid on me." Ron mock-glared a moment before he turned back to his task, leaving her and Harry to finish the restructuring of her parents' memories.

* * *

Sirius isn't sure what to make of the young man who looks so like James, and yet has so little of the personality he remembers his best friend having. The memory is hazy, though, like everything else, so he shrugs it off, and simply studies Harry during his visits.

There are times when he comes with one or another friend of his. A pretty young woman with a wild mane of brown hair and an intense gaze who always stays close to Harry, small touches fleeting back and forth. Or a red-haired young man who's tall and broad, a solid presence who Sirius doesn't doubt can hold Harry back if he needs to.

It's how they both watch Harry, how Harry watches them when they aren't thinking about the fact that they're visiting Sirius, that makes him smile when he thinks about his godson. The love that's so clear between them, that makes them friends, and probably more.

He has no doubt that it's what brought them as far as they've come so far. What brought down Voldemort, and the Ministry, and saw him free of Azkaban. And he wonders how far it will take them. What they would do for each other, no matter how dangerous, just to keep each other happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted for I Saw Three Ships in 2008.


End file.
